Offer Blowjob

"Fifty for head," Lois said. It almost felt like someone else was saying it, keeping to the Suicide Slum accent. "I'm really not up for anything else."

The john didn't look happy, but Lois saw him appraise her face, then he nodded. "Alright. Where?"

Lois nodded her head to the alley, and went in first. There was a streetlamp here, one of the rare ones that was working, but it was unoccupied - no homeless people or dogs - and relatively dry, just a rusting green garbage bin. Six feet in, she stopped and turned. Her mark unzipped his pants. His smile flashed in the shadow of the alley.

"Get to work."

She dropped down in front of him. Cool concrete and pebbles dug into her knees, but she ignored it. Slim hands spread open the fabric of his fly, fished within. The soft silk of boxers. A warm presence beyond that. Her thumb found the seam, and slipped within his underwear. Her fingers brushed against a matted rug of pubes, then the soft, warm tube of flesh. She gently tugged it free.

Maybe six inches, uncircumcized...and covered with little nubs of flesh. She'd heard about that, from the girls in the Lifestyles section of the Daily Planet. Body modification. Pearling. Little balls of plastic or steel, inserted under the skin. Sometimes a prison thing, mostly a sex thing. More stimulation for the girl. High chance of infection, though.

It wasn't hard yet, and Lois licked the head, and stroked the shaft slowly. It began to swell and fill out—definitely a shower more than a grower, as it barely seemed to get any longer, but as she ran her tongue around the foreskin that covered the sensitive tip, it got shockingly hard. If she let it, the coffee-colored dick would probably slap into his belt buckle.

Instead, she held it by the base and ran her tongue along the bottom of his shaft as she took it into her mouth. On a first go, she only took in about three inches, letting the head of his dick hit the top of her mouth. Cheeks hollowed gently as she applied some suction and began to generate saliva. Thumb and forefinger of her right hand were wrapped around the base, and stroked softly, running over those beads buried in the skin—unexpected islands of hardness.

Lois began to bob her head, lips moving over the gangster's penis, trying not to catch her teeth on those beads as she took it a little deeper with each lunge.

Somewhere up above, she heard a whistle, a hoot and holler. Young, high-pitched. With her peripheral vision, she saw someone hanging out of a window above the alley, the bright light of a mobile phone in their hand.

Instinctively, she raised her left hand, middle finger extended. Hopefully, it would cover her face, if whoever was recording. Lois knew she had to finish this.

Not bothering with her hand anymore, she increased the suction and the speed of her bobbing head. All the way down until her lips kissed the base, 'til she could feel the zippers press against her cheeks, then back to the tip. The gangster was almost bucking his hips now, and she knew that meant he was close.

The hands which suddenly clamped down on either side of her head was unexpected, and Lois froze—but it didn't stop. She simply sat there as he humped her mouth for three, four strokes—and then buried himself as deep as he could go. She felt the splatter as it hit the back of her throat, and breathed through her nose as he finished, trying not to cough on the hot load.

They stayed like that, for a moment. Then Lois gently pried his hands from her head, and drew his slowly softening stiffy out of her mouth with a long slurp.

He looked her in the eyes as she coughed, once, than swallowed and smacked her lips.

"Well damn, chica." He said as he slipped his dick back in his pants. "I guess you was in a hurry." The billfold flashed again, and he fetched out a fifty...and a twenty. He crushed the money into her hand. "But I needed that. So you take this. Maybe I'll run into you again sometime, eh puta?"

He smiled, then left Lois in the alley, on her knees.